And so it went one muggy day this summer, as three middle-aged friends and their daughters gathered to experience some conglomerate rock in upstate New York.

The Shawangunk Ridge, as this part of the Appalachians is called, is an easy two-hour drive from Manhattan, and many city climbers go up there for day trips. The area, affectionately called the Gunks, is the subject of much climbing lore, from the first ascents with rudimentary gear in the 1930s to the 1960s climbers known as the Vulgarians, who shocked traditional mountaineers by sometimes climbing naked. Today the Gunks are one of the best climbing areas on the Northeast, partly because of the wide range of routes there — some for beginners and many for the advanced.

The three friends, all 47, went to high school together on Long Island more than 30 years ago and have kept in touch with near weekly phone calls ever since, even though they ended up living in different states (Maryland, Georgia and Texas). One, Jay Haller, began rock climbing in college and went to the Gunks then. It was his idea to take his old pals, Mr. Suscello and Rich Smalling, climbing novices both, for a day of father-daughter bonding on the cliffs.

This was a departure from an otherwise typical tourist itinerary in the city. Fresh from seeing Ellis Island and the Broadway musical “West Side Story,” the group made its way to New Paltz, the town nearest the Gunks. A hippie vibe prevails there, and a long day of climbing is best followed by a stop at one of its burger pubs or vegan cafes.

But first there were rocks to scale. The dads and daughters picked up gear like helmets, harnesses and climbing shoes from Rock & Snow, a climbers’ hub in town. That’s where they arranged to meet two guides from Alpine Endeavors, one of a handful of guiding services in New Paltz, whom they had hired to show them the ropes, literally.

The guides selected Peter’s Kill, an area with plenty of beginners’ routes that’s a short walk from the parking lot. These particular rocks have a sloping back that can be walked up, but the other side presents a steep vertical challenge. One guide hiked behind the rocks and secured a handful of ropes to the top. The guide lowered the ropes, and it was time to get started.

Mr. Suscello, the least experienced of the group, hesitantly approached the wall. Mr. Smalling scurried closer for a view of his old friend, declaring, “I’d pay money to see this,” and recounted stories about how he used to steal Mr. Suscello’s lunch.

Ignoring the tales from high school glory days, Mr. Suscello stayed focused on the wall. Down below, his daughter, Nicole, held onto the rope, which was attached to her harness using a carabiner and another climbing device. She was anchored — tied onto a rock — on the ground because of their weight difference. Climbers of more similar weights do not have to go to such lengths. Periodically, Mr. Suscello looked back at her, eyes wide, and said, “You got me, Nikki?” She nodded.

“It’s one of those unique experiences you can have, when you’re depending on your daughter to support you,” says Myriam Bouchard, one of the guides, who climbs in her spare time with her son. “There’s a whole bonding and trust thing. Not all parents can do it, but this is a great group.”

Photo

Rich Smalling, scaling a narrow corridor between two rocks, at Peter’s Kill in Minnewaska State Park in upstate New York. Credit
Kelly Shimoda for The New York Times

The first climb was a cinch, especially because, in an unusual twist, the group was allowed to use an adjacent tree as added support. But the next ones were harder. One went up a corner on the rock. The climbers had to fold their arms and legs around the sides as if they were giving it a full-body bear hug.

Another route was in a narrow corridor between two rocks, roughly 100 feet high. The girls loved this one. With their backs against one rock and feet against the other, they wiggled up like inchworms.

To the uninitiated, these tactics sound crazy. Just the thought of hanging 10 or 20 feet, or more, off the ground can churn some stomachs. But if you can trust the ropes and your climbing partner, the experience is exhilarating. There’s a peacefulness to studying the rock in front of you and finding the pattern of holds that will take you up.

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Looking for patterns became all the more important when the fathers and daughters hit a difficult climb. One of the girls, Marina Smalling, 13, declared it impossible. (And, she explained, it gave her a “wedgie extraordinaire.”)

Mr. Haller and his daughter, Kate, 16, the most experienced climbers, took it on as a challenge, despite the crew of spiders on the wall. Like Gumby, Kate stretched her legs out in a V as far as they could reach and tried to make it to the second hold. It was tough, and she stumbled. But she kept on trying.

The Smallings and the Suscellos were on either side, on their own climbs. Periodically, the dads looked at each other and grinned. Marina, holding the rope below her father, cheered him on, “Go, Dad!” At one point Mr. Smalling fell, flinging Marina off the ground, but just a few feet — the anchor stopped her from flying farther. Father and daughter laughed and laughed as they both hung, safe together.

Once the Hallers conquered the difficult climb, Marina decided to give it another try. The Hallers had brought out her competitive spirit, and they stood by, giving pointers. Marina’s not as tall as Kate, but she found ledges closer together and gingerly stepped onto them. Slowly but surely, she got up the wall, wedgie be darned.

As her father lowered her, Marina beamed. She had accomplished the final climb of the day. Mr. Haller proclaimed: “You performed the impossible. You said it yourself: it’s impossible, it can’t be done. But you did it.”

Resources:

BOOK “The Climber’s Guide to the Shawangunks” (Vulgarian Press), by Dick Williams.